Ryan Evans: Red Ranger
by Mathais
Summary: When the Gates to the Underworld open, evil of all forms and manners escape. But, in the human world, some change. Ryan Evans is one of them.


Story Title: Ryan Evans: Red Ranger

Author: Mathais

Rating: T

Fandom: High School Musical, Power Rangers

Warnings: Crack

Pairings: None

Summary: When the Gates to the Underworld open, evil of all forms and manners escape. But, in the human world, some change. Ryan Evans is one of them.

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical or Power Rangers. I actually don't own this idea either; it belongs to Catt001 from YouTube

Notes: Someone else's plot bunny hit me. Yeah, it's cause her videos are **that** good. Um, well, I don't have her permission to write this, so, don't be mad? A link to the trailer this hit me from: http: // www. youtube. com / watch ? v = VdlAfDDz6uE

**OoOoO**

_"You said no one was going to get hurt."_

_"Change of plans."_

**OoOoO**

Ryan ran a thumb over the pendant in his hand.

He was a demon crossbred with a human. A minor demon, to be sure, but a demon nonetheless.

He'd been raised on the belief that humans were quite willing to kill him as soon as they were able, simply because he was only part human, and that to attack them first was the only way to be free to live. After all, they'd trapped all of them, not matter of what alignment in the battle, in the Underworld. He lived it, believed it, but hadn't focused on it. In the Underworld, there were more pressing concerns.

Like survival.

Aside from the usual thieves, backstabbers, and the like, the Underworld had more than its fair share of danger, from its natives to its natural landscape. Though there were many places to hide, those who served the Master were always looking for recruits to be pressed into service. Ryan had no desire to be turned into a Styxoid or a Hidiac, so he avoided Morticon as if he were the sun. He made sure never to cross paths with Necrolai (though she was kinda, sorta his aunt through a relation neither would claim), and he kept far, far away from Koragg once he appeared.

His wards and Sharpay's glamours were damn good for that, enough so that even Koragg couldn't sense them. His parents, his mother by blood and father by bond, helped them and taught them well.

So when the Gates opened and they were free to escape once more, they'd fled the darkness and went into the light. Not sticking around Briarwood to be taken out by the Mystic Force Rangers and their ilk, they made it to Albuquerque and made a life of affluence for themselves on the backs of humans.

Ryan remembered discovering music. He remembered the way that it filled him with something he hadn't realized he wanted before—life.

And then he discovered dancing.

In the Underworld, there were no frivolities. Every day was spent scavenging and surviving, so there was no time for anything else. The anything else could get you killed. But here, in the light and the shine, he could dance and not care.

He remembered learning to dance from a woman who worked him so hard that he collapsed in a heap afterward, only to see her offer him a glass of water. He remembered the smile on her face, the twinkle in her eye that no demon had. He remembered that she, after forcing him to dance and move, would show him was it was all worth it with graceful dances which continued to take his breath away.

And, slowly, no matter how much he hadn't associated with people prior, he opened up to her, the other students, and everyone around them.

He didn't mind when Sharpay had them start acting and lost himself in the musicals, their words and their dances.

Until he found himself being with the very people who he'd been taught to hate.

And liking it.

These people were as varied as the demons he was with in the Underworld. You had the leaders and the followers, the assholes, the genuinely nice people (the last of which, in the Underworld, were both rare and hidden), and all the range in between. These were simply people with another name and as much proclivity toward good and evil—well, if he wanted to be honest with himself, slightly more inclined to good than your average demon—as they themselves.

So when some of those who had fled the rule of the Master made rumbles to fight, Ryan found himself torn. His family had already shown their inclination to be on the side of the demons, to cull and tame the humans and make this world their own.

But he didn't want it.

He didn't want to fight these people who taught him how to smile. He didn't want this life to go away.

He wanted it with the heart he hadn't realized he had until now.

And then...

Ryan knew what he had to do. No matter how much part of his heart tugged at him.

He dropped the pendant.

**OoOoO**

_"I'm sorry."_

**OoOoO**

Clothed in red, the Power accepting him in spite of his heritage, he cut through his enemies with his sword. Each swipe blazed with power; he felt the motions as if it were a dance whose beat he could hear. Each step was controlled, fluid, graceful, and to win he simply overpowered the other's rhythm, made them dance to his own tune. Even when he fell to the ground, he got back up again and regained his rhythm.

He recognized the red demon before him. A berserker swordsman whose bloodlust he'd kept in check in the Underworld by killing its natives from the shadows, managing to never catch the Master's attention. But now, he was in the open, causing damage and spreading fear. Now, his blades shined with red and thirsted for blood.

Ryan would never give him it.

His upbringing asked him why he fought. It asked him to take his place next to his family, to destroy the humans who would do the same to him.

His heart lashed out with his sword, setting the memories of the people he'd been with, the woman who'd entrusted him with these powers, against that.

"You will not harm them," he hissed, bringing his sword down and delivering a strong blow. The berserker recoiled before striking back. Ryan deflected, spun, and gave a fatal slash to the stomach.

"You..." A brief flicker in the yellow eyes. "The Evans boy. Why...?"

"Because you chose to hurt those innocent." Defiantly, with a conviction he learned only recently, he gave another blow to silence him.

If his memory served him correctly, Koragg was the only one who could cast growth spells, but there might have been something developed in this world which would help.

And, yep, that shine was definitely a growth spell.

He called his Zord and, even alone, he managed to defeat the fellow demon.

It felt... good.

It definitely felt good. Not the fighting, though that managed to fill him with adrenaline. And it excited him to remove one of the extremists from his world.

But what felt the best was knowing that he was protecting these people. It was worth more than anything right now, when he had a near lifetime to make up for, especially at those first steps in this world. He owed it to the lives he ruined back in the Underworld, to the people he crushed here.

He would protect this world.

**OoOoO**

_"Well, I guess that's showbiz."_

**OoOoO**

"You left this behind, Ryan."

The voice was cold, but Ryan refused to stiffen in response and instead turned fluidly, his deep red button-up hiding what was on his wrist.

"Hey, Sharpay." He called upon every bit of his acting skill to hide the nervousness in his voice and replace it with cool composure.

His sister, his twin, held out a familiar pendant. He knew what it was, knew what it said. He's long since memorized the shape and feel of a material which nothing on Earth could ever replicate. It was something he had at his birth and, even now, his collar craved the familiar sensation.

But he could never have it. It was too much a reminder of what he left behind. And it held too many magics linking him to his family.

"Mom's frantic about her Ducky. She's going nuts scrying." There was a bored sense of detachment in her voice, but Ryan knew Sharpay enough to note the tiny bit of worry in her tone. "Daddy wants to know what's blocking you."

Ryan resisted the urge to fidget with the ring on his finger, a gift given to hide his presence from his family, boosted with the strength of his own wards. "It's of my own will, choice, Shar."

"Quit playing around, Ryan, and come home." What was left of Sharpay's patience withered and Ryan heard the familiar snap in her voice. At any other time, he would have obeyed. Gods, he would have given in once he heard his mom was worried. But now...

"No."

Sharpay looked shocked. "What, Ry—"

"No, Sharpay, I'm not going back. And you're not going to find me. You know how strong my wards are."

"Then Daddy will break them. Mom'll get him to."

"You can try."

The cold dismissal in the tone seemed to throw Sharpay off guard, though she recovered remarkably quickly. Her response was tinged with another emotion, softer. "Ry, if you're being forced—"

But Ryan shook his head, though warmed at how willing it seemed Sharpay wanted to believe in him. "I'm not being forced. It's my choice."

And it was his choice. In the end, it was his choice to walk away from the enemy, and nothing could take that away from him. He lifted his right wrist to brush through his blond hair, now free without his hat (no hat meant less chance at recognition, no matter how much it pained him to leave them off), and then there was Sharpay's gasp.

His eyes darted to his now exposed wrist.

Crap, his morpher.

"Ry, you're—"

"Yes, I am, because I can't watch these people get hurt." Abruptly, he turned away. He couldn't deal with the shock and betrayal on Sharpay's face, a testament to how deeply this startled her. "I'm leaving now, Shar. Don't try to find me."

"Ryan—"

"Don't follow me!"

He ran off, casting a ward strong enough to hide him from sight.

He didn't know how long he ran. All he knew was that that bridge was definitely burned, definitely broken. He had well and truly walked away from his family.

And, now matter how his heart ached for them, he knew it was the correct choice, the right one for him.

**OoOoO**

_"When did you become... one of them?"_

**OoOoO**

He was Ryan Evans, the Red Ranger.


End file.
